Innocent Next Door (Military Men Book 1) (18 page)

“Pooh! It stinks of paint in here,” she called from the front door.

“Wait until you get a whiff of me.”

She appeared in the doorway, fingers holding her nose, blue eyes wide and twinkling. “What have you been doing?”

“Training with the men for a mission.”

“What about your knee?”

“My knee is fine.” Hell, maybe if he said it enough it might come true. As if he didn’t have enough worry bones to gnaw.

“Good.” Summer seemed unperturbed by his temper.

Nikolai wondered about her reaction when he told her they couldn’t be together anymore. Their relationship was a mistake—a slip of judgment on his part.

He hoped like hell she didn’t cry. The way he was feeling, he might just break out and howl with her. He took another sip of whiskey and savored the burn as it slid down his throat.

“Are you going to have a shower? I could scrub your back.”

“I thought the paint bothered you.”

“It does, but I came prepared.” She dug inside a pocket and brandished an inhaler for him to see.

Fuck, she wasn’t gonna make it easy. Nikolai stared at the dregs of amber liquid in his glass. Maybe he should lay out the truth, tell her why he was bad relationship material. His gut twisted at laying his emotions bare.

He cleared his throat. “Henry won’t approve of us having a relationship.”

Summer straightened from her sprawl against the doorframe and crossed her arms, her chin angled in challenge. “Uncle Henry isn’t here. And even if he was, it’s none of his business. I’m legal.”

“He asked me to look after you, not to drag you off to bed and fuck you.” Nikolai let gritty harshness fill his voice, made himself sound tough. Inside, he felt like crap.

“My mother isn’t here. You can say that word, you know. I have heard it before.”

“Summer.” He wanted to shake her. He wanted to kiss her. But he wasn’t fool enough to reach for her.

“I’m going out to a nightclub on Friday night. The new one—Raven Black. You—”

He cursed and slammed his glass on the table hard enough to make her jump.

“Who are you going with?” Jealousy, pure and simple, poured out with his words. Fuck, was that a giveaway or what?

“With some of the girls from work.”

“It’s not safe.” He’d heard about the Raven Black. All sorts of kinky things… Jake and Louie had picked up a couple of woman there… “You’re not going unless I go too.”

“And are you going as my boyfriend or my chaperone?”

“Dammit, this isn’t funny. I’m bad news.”

“So you keep saying.” She advanced to his table and jerked out a chair. She sat and faced him in clear expectation. “Tell me why. Let me judge.”

“It won’t change anything.”

Obviously not the best time to tell him about exchanging the books, or the prickling instinct she experienced whenever she left the house. She took a shallow breath and ended up with a lungful of paint fumes. Standing abruptly, she stood and dragged her chair over to the open window before sitting again.

“So, tell me about this bad thing you’ve done. Do a proper job and scare me off.” Her tone was mocking but inside, panic jumped with the vigor of a kangaroo. She liked Nikolai, and despite his alpha gene, they were good together. Given time, she might even cure him of the bossiness.

Anguish crossed his face briefly before his expression blanked. He snatched the bottle of whiskey and poured some into his glass. Then he glanced at her with chocolate-brown eyes full of pain and tortured memories. “Want some?”

“Sure, why not?” She jumped up to get a glass and moved her chair next to him. He poured her a drink, and she waited for him to speak. He glanced at her, hesitated. His broad chest rose and fell before he averted his attention.

“I was married before,” he said, concentrating on his glass.

Summer caught her breath. He was older. Of course, he’d had relationships with other women. But it still hurt, dammit.

“Laura and I married young.”

Bother. Now the woman had a name. Summer bet she was slim, blonde and beautiful. Everything she wasn’t.

“We married too young. Neither of us… We shouldn’t have wed, but Laura had problems with her father. He was a drunk, and he used to bash anyone who got in his way. Marriage seemed like the best solution. I mean, we’d known each other since we were kids.”

Summer’s mind raced. What had happened to Laura? Why weren’t they together now? Questions pounded her mind while she waited for him to speak again. “And?”

“The marriage didn’t work out.”

Duh! She wanted to give him a good shake. Now was not the time to turn taciturn. “Why didn’t it work out?”

“We married too young. I was away a lot for work. Laura was bored.”

“Why didn’t she get a job? It wasn’t your fault she had too much time on her hands.”

Nikolai’s head jerked up. He stared at her as though she’d suddenly sprouted another head. “Is that what you would have done?” His tone was harsh, his face tormented like a man in the grip of deep emotions.

Summer was confused. Wasn’t a job the obvious solution? Or volunteer work? Or some sort of hobby? It was what she would have done in the same situation. The world was full of new things to learn, new things to experience like the bungee off the top of the Sky Tower in central Auckland, which Summer had booked, along with some of the girls at the library. Next week was D-day, and she was already scared spitless. But fear wasn’t going to stop her grabbing a new experience.

“Boredom and the need for change was one of the reasons I jumped at the chance to do the library course in Auckland. Eketahuna is a small town with not much social life. Everyone knows me there.”

“You mean you can’t get up to mischief there.”

“True. That and the fact most of the eligible males my age are too frightened of my brothers to ask me out.” She scrutinized Nikolai. Calmer now, not so introspective, but that didn’t mean she intended to let him change the subject. He owed her an explanation. And once she had it, she intended to entice him into bed. Actually, make that shower first and bed second. The man didn’t smell pretty.

“Laura was bored. She met up with some old school friends while I was away on a mission. She wrote and told me about it. I was pleased because she sounded happier. It made things easier when I managed a few weeks at home.” Nikolai paused again and seemed to drift off.

“Nikolai,” she said, reaching over to pat his arm. “Tell me, before I’m too old and gray to sympathize.”

He speared her with a narrow-eyed glare. “The group she hooked up with was into drugs. Anything they could get. Ecstasy. P. Among others.”

“I’m sorry, Nikolai.” She squeezed his biceps in a show of sympathy. “But you can’t blame yourself because she took drugs. We all have freedom of choice.”

“But I left her alone. I thought she’d kicked the habit. She went to rehab and came home clean. We were expecting our first child.”

A lump the size of a golf ball clogged her throat. She swallowed several times, but her throat remained tight and tears of sympathy prickled at the back of her eyes. A child. That made Laura more real—an image that was harder to fight. “What happened?”

“I’d gone off on a mission. Communication back home was difficult. I’d talked to Laura on the phone a couple of times, and she sounded happy. The mission was extended. Something happened. I’m not sure what set her off, but she started doing drugs again. The police told me her system was full of P. She drove off a ravine on the way home.”

Despite squeezing her eyes shut, a tear escaped and trickled down her cheek.

“Don’t cry, dammit,” Nikolai snarled. “I know I screwed up. I should never have left her alone. Now you know why any sort of relationship between us is impossible. I have a demanding job. I can’t guarantee I’d be here for you when you need me.”

Summer swiped at the tears on her face with her hand. Resentment burned in her gut. Who’d asked him to baby-sit her anyway? Everyone kept forgetting she was an adult, and it was time for them to remember. She jerked upright, standing rigidly to attention. “I don’t need a babysitter. What I need, what I want, is a lover. I thought you were my lover. Obviously, I was wrong.” She stormed to the door and took great pleasure in slamming the door on the way out.

Chapter Fourteen

The impact of wood against frame reverberated like thunder, and Nikolai could have sworn the house shuddered.

He’d done it.

He’d driven off Summer.

So why didn’t he feel good about returning to the friends-and-neighbor slot? Because he—

Damn! He wasn’t gonna think about entering emotional territory. That was what tripped him every bloody time. No point repeating mistakes.

He hauled his body off the chair and limped to the kitchen doorway. His progress to his bedroom was slow and laborious, his boots leaving a trail of dried mud as witness to his journey. He’d clean up when he had more energy. The reality of failing to tackle the assault course tomorrow darted to mind, but he shied from the possibility and continued his journey to his bedroom. Once there, he dropped to the bed with a pained groan to remove his boots. More caked mud dropped onto the gleaming wooden floor he’d rescued from under a layer of brown carpet.

His thoughts wandered back to Summer, and the look on her face right before she stormed from his house. He’d hurt her just as he’d distressed Laura by his frequent absences. Trouble was, he loved his job and wasn’t trained for anything else.

“Get over it, Tarei.” He yanked off his shirt and struggled from his army fatigue trousers. The deed was done. Summer and he were no longer an item, and that was the way he wanted it.

* * * * *

Summer hadn’t spoken to Nikolai for three days. She rose at the ring of the alarm clock each morning, dragged her weary body from bed and went to work. The days passed like the slow trickle of syrup on a winter’s day. Despite trying to keep busy, her mind kept wandering back to Nikolai and the pleasure they’d experienced together.

Her mouth firmed as she watched the big, bad SAS man limp from his house and climb into a battered sedan driven by his mate, Jake.

Stubborn, infuriating male.

She glared through the closed window, confident in the knowledge he wouldn’t know she was spying. The limp had returned. He shouldn’t try to work at present or he’d end up with a permanent hobble. The scar that sliced past his kneecap signified the extent of the damage.

The man needed a keeper.

A babysitter.

Ten minutes later, she rushed out the door and locked it before heading for her Mazda. It was good to have the old girl back from the garage. She checked her watch, let out a yelp and ran the remaining distance to her car.

Luck was with her as the traffic was lighter than normal on the run up the motorway to central Auckland. She rushed into the staff meeting room at two minutes to the hour.

“Just made it,” Angel said.

Summer slid into the empty chair beside her friend and attempted composure.

“Give up,” Angel said. “Your cheeks are scarlet, your hair has gone wispy and you’re breathing like a dragon about to put out a fire.”

“Charming,” she muttered. “With friends like you—”

“Have you heard about the…?”

Summer listened with half an ear, as she sometimes did with Angel. Although she liked her and found her fun to work with, Angel loved to gossip. Which was why she hadn’t mentioned Nikolai to her friend. She didn’t want her personal life all over the library.

“
Summer
.” Angel shook her, digging her lilac-tipped nails into Summer’s upper arm. “The murder at the bookshop. Have you heard about it?”

Summer shot to attention. “Murder?”

A fine tremor shook the hand that rested on the desktop. She snatched it off the wooden surface and stuck it on her lap out of sight. Thoughts screamed through her mind fast as boy-racers and their cars on a Friday night.

“Where?” she demanded, a sharp edge to her voice.

Rapid footsteps outside the meeting room heralded Mrs. Ferguson’s arrival. She bustled into the room, casting an eagle eye over her charges. “Good, everyone’s here. We have a lot to get through.”

“Which bookshop?” Summer mouthed urgently at Angel.

“Summer Williams.” Mrs. Ferguson’s voice cut across the hushed silence. “Organize your social life during your lunch hour.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Ferguson,” she said, working at maintaining a calm façade. Difficult when worry, fear and outright panic stampeded through her brain.

What had she done?

“Firstly, I’d like to talk about the training courses…”

Summer tuned her boss out while her mind dwelled on murder. Although Angel hadn’t confirmed the whom, she didn’t believe in coincidences, not since she’d swapped the books.

Lord, what was she going to do? Panic swarmed through her stomach like a malignant virus. Her lungs tightened so much it felt as if she were pushing weights off her chest with each breath. She bent to fumble through her handbag for her inhaler and took a quick, furtive puff.

“Summer!”

Summer jerked upward and hit her head on the corner of the wooden table as she straightened in her chair. Pain lanced through her head, and she bit back a groan. Bother. Another knock to the noggin. Just the thing for clear thinking.

“What are you doing?” Mrs. Ferguson glared at her across the top of her rimless glasses.

Summer bit her lip, while tears smarted at the corners of her eyes. Her fingers delicately probed the tender spot. Great. Another lump on her head to match the previous one. “I’m sorry. My asthma is giving me trouble. I needed to use my inhaler.”

The harsh expression on Mrs. Ferguson’s face faded to concern. “Do you need to leave the room for a few minutes?”

“I think I’ll be okay. I’m sorry for interrupting.”

Mrs. Ferguson continued, and she tried to concentrate. But it was difficult when guilt coursed through her. She couldn’t help but wonder if it the murder had happened because of her actions.

* * * * *

Summer hadn’t made a conscious decision to tell Nikolai, but she found herself looking for him while watering Uncle Henry’s roses. She aimed the hose at the base of Tom Thumb, Uncle Henry’s favorite, and tried to quell the ever-present anxiety.